Nightmares
by EightSevens
Summary: An AU where Keith has nightmare disorder (sleep anxiety disorder). After a series of nightmares involving Lance he becomes paranoid, and is eventually pushed into a very unwanted state of mind. Lance and Keith start to warm up to each other post-bonding moment. [Warning: If you have an active imagination and are sensitive to depressive thoughts or ideas of bloodshed/death.]
1. Thursday

I wake up in a bed staring at a paneled wall colored baby blue. Attached to my right wrist was a paper bracelet, and by that very same wrist stood an IV. To my left there was a bedside table which had an elegant lamp with a warmly-colored light bulb inside. I look down at both of my arms. They're covered in self-inflicted cuts. Above and across and all around the room were paintings. I can't bring myself to pay attention to them, but something is more important. There are no clocks in the room. I found that strange. A hospital with no clocks? Unheard of to me, useless Keith Kogane. There were also no flowers. I guess only doctors care about me, judging by how I'm somehow still alive. They should've let me die. They should've left me in that bed laying lonely as usual. They should've left me there for Allura to find my corpse in bed lying lifeless and limp. For Shiro to see why I could never be the true leader of Voltron. For Pidge to see I was exactly as Lance had make me to be. Nothing but a source for competition. Nothing but hated, useless, always angry little Keith lying dead in his bed at 8:32 AM. But instead Pidge had a different idea. I was sent straight back to Earth to lie here in a hospital, being treated like an unstable monster. Maybe I am just another unstable monster. I could be compared to schizophrenics and serial killers. Only...I would be a personal killer. Not so much a serial killer because this is only the first time I've tried to kill myself. 100% new experience.

Suddenly a man walks into the room wearing a nurse outfit. He looked familiar. Dark skin and black hair. Blue eyes like crystals, glimmering as the light hits them. Slender body with hips that honestly don't lie. Damn those hips sassily swaying back and forth as the young male nurse walked in the room.

"Keith Kogane. Attempted suicide via OD on painkillers. I'm Lance, here to give you your medicine." These were the soft words the nurse spoke. His smooth buttery voice soothed my mind, swept and mopped and did the dishes. His very presence cleared my brain of all sinister thoughts. Death? That can wait. This man is everything. This man is my world. I don't know what it is about him that rocks my world, but it feels ethereal. Lance, as he said his name was, gave off a euphoric vibe. It felt like heaven on earth with ice cream.

"Y-yes that's my name. Keith," I replied a little embarrassed that I look like a mess in front of a beautiful man such as he.

The nurse looked into my eyes wearing a blissful smile in his face. I smiled back. "So, what made you want to do it?" he questioned.

"I don't-," I began to stutter and blush, "I don't know. Lonely I guess?"

Lance smiled at my blushing face. "I can help with that," he began to whisper as he inched closer to me. I felt my entire body heat up. The god of all nurses leaned in, making the distance between our lips smaller and smaller.

 _BANG!_

Lance was dead, lying lifeless on the floor. The killer of my final hope had come into the room. The killer was me. A different me. There were suddenly two Keith Koganes in the room. An obviously superior Keith Kogane, and me, useless dumb angry Keith Kogane. Superior Keith looked into my eyes with a menacing grin, pointing the cheap pistol at me. I sat there and welcomed it in the hopes of awakening to be next to a god. He shot, and my eyes opened.

* * *

[8:32 AM]

Sweat dripped from every part of my body that could. Suicide? Lance? I sat in that bed and wondered why on earth I had this dream. What did it mean? Is Lance okay? I checked my wrists. All clean. But those cuts in the dream...I could feel them. They felt and looked as permanent as can be. Deep breaths Keith, deep breaths. I take a few deep breaths pacing them slowly and attempting to keep them steady.

After finally clearing my mind, I decided to put my clothes on and go grab some food goo from the kitchen. Lance happened to be in the kitchen when I arrived. I let out a grateful sigh.

. . . .

"Is everything alright, Keith," Lance asked looking at me with genuine concern. I'd been staring at him with awe for the past 20 seconds, amazed at how that dream made me question if someone I knew was even alive. I guess he is.

"Uhh, y-yeah. Just... glad to be able to live another day," I forced, ending my words with awkward laughter. He stared at me blankly for a moment, then went genuinely confused.

He got up and walked out of the kitchen. On his way out he whispered to me, "Are you sure? We really can't afford for anyone to be like...in a depression or something." I nodded, letting him know it was okay, and he left. I watched him leave wondering why on earth he made me feel so alive in the dream but in real life he makes me feel so worthless.

I began to fix myself a plate of food goo. "What the hell even was that nightmare?" I asked myself after the plate was fixed.

"I don't know maybe you should talk about it," interjected someone obviously listening in. I turned around quickly to find that the voice belonged to Pidge. A sigh of relief escapes my lips. At least it's someone with a little more knowledge toward the logic side but do they know anything in the whole psychology thing? Oh well, I guess I'll have to find out.

I finally answered. "Well... I guess if you're willing to hear about it."

Pidge smiled sweetly. "Of course I'm willing to hear it, otherwise I don't think I would've suggested you speak about it."

"True." I sat down and ate for a few quick seconds while waiting for Pidge to enter the room. Once they sat down across from me, I started telling them. I told them about how I had woken up in a hospital, how I had self-inflicted cuts on my arms. I told them about the thoughts that went through my head while I was in that dream, and all those things about how I had tried to kill myself and why I was better off dead. How everyone that surrounded me seemed like they didn't care about me in this dream because there were no flowers or get well soon balloons or anyone waiting for me there. I told them of how Lance was suddenly a nurse, and how he almost kissed me but was murdered. I told Pidge that there was a different version of me in the room with a gun and how he shot me and then I woke up.

"So, what could all of this possibly mean?" I asked my friend.

"I don't know but that part about Lance is definitely important since you blushed," they said with a smug look on their face.

"H-huh?"

Did I really blush? I couldn't have. Lance and Keith, neck and neck, right? Always competing for something. There is nothing embarrassing about talking about Lance trying to kiss me, right? It was only a dream after all, it's not like it actually happened. But what if it did actually happen in real life? How would I feel? I don't know. I'd only be losing a friend, right? It's not like I'm losing a lover. Right?

"There is no way in hell that I would possibly have feelings for that freak," I declared to Pidge.

"Sure." They rolled their eyes at me. "Just like there's no way in hell I love robots."

"What are you getting at?"

"What do you think I'm getting at?" Pidge had a smug look on their face by now, probably laughing at me in their head. What for? It's not like I have those kinds of feelings for that child.

I responded with silence.

"You really don't know?" They seemed genuinely concerned. What was I so oblivious to? As far as I'm aware, I had never shown any signs of being into Lance in any kind of way.

Finally, Pidge began to explain. "You remember last week when you were reading in the lounge and fell asleep? The day we drew a moustache on you while you were sleeping."

"How could I forget," I groaned.

"Well before we had decided to draw on you we heard you mumbling. You were saying stuff like 'Lance, don't go.' and just Lance's name in general." I felt blood rush all throughout my body.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

But why? Was I dreaming of him? Was I dreaming of the way his body moves when he walks or how he's always got that dumb smile on his face? Impossible! I wouldn't call out for him not to be leaving me unless I did something wrong somehow.

Suddenly I saw someone in the corner of my eye standing in the doorway. It was Allura. Why was she here? Did she need something from us?

"Sorry to intrude," she said softly while walking in.

I was going to respond but Pidge did instead. "It's alright."

She seemed to a have a guilty look on her face. Like she was apologizing with just her eyes and those alone. Coran followed behind her. "We may have overheard your discussion," she added to the apology.

"Yes, terribly sorry for eavesdropping in on that important conversation," Coran said. It seemed like he was also adding onto the apology.

All they ever really did was make things more awkward when they listened in on things like these. This isn't the first time they "accidentally" listen in on important conversations regarding the relationships between this whole group of humans we have here. They'd overheard a lot of things from how Hunk and Pidge like to make robots together as a pastime all the way to, well, this. I don't feel anything for Lance, but I guess when I'm sleeping my brain disagrees with me. Strongly.

So, what was the big deal?

* * *

[3:00 PM]

What a lovely day out here in space. Alone. Perfect for jumping out the airlock. It's not worth it though. Jumping out the airlock isn't worth it. I have to keep everyone intact, right? Honestly why do these thoughts go through my head? I'll be fine. I can pull through.

"Everything alright, Keith?" A voice called out to me from seemingly far far away. I didn't budge, but I wanted to. They waved a hand in my face, saying, "Hey Keith, you okay?" Still, I didn't move. I couldn't. I was stuck. Stuck and alone with my thoughts. That nightmare was too much not to pay attention to. It was keeping me distracted. Why were there no clocks? Why were there no flowers? Why was Lance the nurse? Why did Lance almost kiss me? Why was I attracted to Lance? Why was I the killer? Why, why, why, why, why, why, why?! "KEITH?"

"Huh?" Suddenly my mind snapped back to reality. I was sitting in front of Allura and Coran. "What's going on?"

"You were just about to start teaching us more about Earth," replied Allura excitedly. Her eyes seemed to twinkle with excitement and fascination.

Teach? What was there to teach about Earth? Criminality? Peace? Clinical depression and other disorders? Serial killers? Yearly birth rituals? Death celebrations with free food? I'm sure they knew about all of this, right? How horribly some humans treat other humans. That was easy to tell based on how Lance and I interact with each other? "Well, what is there to teach?" I felt like an older brother teaching his younger siblings. They just kinda looked at me liked the answer was obvious. Yeah, whatever they didn't know about. "Well actually I have something in mind."

[I'm about to have Keith tell Allura and Coran a story about a sadomasochistic serial killer, rapist, and cannibal. Albert Fish's story is absolutely not for sensitive people, so scroll until you see ". . . ." and save yourselves I guess]

"Like what?" The two looked very interested in the story I was getting ready to tell. One of death. Lot's of death.

"There was a man named Albert Fish born in Washington D.C. Of course he grew up but that's not what I'm trying to teach you about. This man was a sadomasochist. He enjoyed hurting people just as much as he enjoyed hurting himself. He was also a rapist, most of his victims being male and definitely younger than him. What else? A cannibal. ONe of his victims was a girl named Grace Budd who was invited to a birthday party. He went to get her and ask the parents if she could come with him to which they agreed and allowed their child to be taken away by this man." At this point Allura's kind face became somewhat afraid. I think she knew what was coming. "His letter to the parents really isn't...It's not. Ugh. Okay." I sat there and tried to remember exactly what that letter said. Why can't I remember it right now? Why did I memorise it in the first place? Finally the last paragraph to the letter came to me.

" ' When all was ready, I went to the window and called her. Then I hid in the closet until she was in the room. When she saw me all naked she began to cry and tried to run down the stairs. I grabbed her and she said she would tell her mamma.

First, I stripped her naked. How she did kick, bite, and scratch. I choked her to death, then cut her in small pieces so I could take the meat to my rooms, cook, and eat it. How sweet and tender her little ass was roasted in the oven. It took me 9 days to eat her entire body. I did not fuck her, though I could have if I wished. She died a virgin.' "

I left those two in a hole, scared and afraid.

. . . .

"Is he still alive?" Allura asked.

"Oh of course not. After that letter the police found him and had him executed via the electric chair," I reassured her. The mood seemed to lift slightly but the feeling of being watched by some creepy cannibal lingered. Why did I decide to share that story? I don't know. It was very real though. A phase I went through drove me to take interest in stories like these. "I'm sorry guys I really didn't know what else to talk about."

"No it's fine. That was interesting," Coran said standing up. Allura followed him up and so did I. I noticed Lance standing in the background. He was eavesdropping.

"What the heck, Keith?!" Lance's voice reached out to me from where he was.

I forced an innocent smile, "I don't know what they do and don't know about Earth. I was just teaching them a fun little fact I learned about while doing some research."

"Dude, you don't just share creepy stories like that!"

I began to walk past him. "You can't tell me what to do." ." After my remark I felt my heart rate jump. Suddenly the entire nightmare came to my mind all in one flash, stopping me in my tracks completely.

"Got something else to say," Lance snickered at me.

"No, do you?" I guess there was something about the aggitation in my voice that made him quiet so suddenly. I was mad, but I didn't know why. Why was I mad? Was I mad at Lance? Was I mad at myself?

After that he kept quiet, and I continued walking. No point in spending time on stress if it only gets more stressful. I made my way to the practice room and begun practicing, working as hard as I could to perfect my speed and damage, breathing out sweat and breathing in stress as I worked towards perfection. Too much stress made me choke on all the air I was holding in my lungs. After I had finished my practice for the day, I took a few minutes to relax.

Wait. Something's off. The room feels emptier than I remembered it. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something's missing. I reach down into every pocket I have. No phone. WHERES MY PHONE?! I sprint out of the training room and search everywhere I've been. My room, the kitchen, the bridge, and I checked every nook and cranny of the training room. No where. I checked with Hunk and Shiro. They haven't seen it anywhere. I didn't want to bother Pidge because they were busy.

"Hey Lance, have you seen Keith's phone?" Hunk asked.

"Absolutely not, why would I keep track-"

I cut him off, "Yeah Hunk why would Lance keep track of any of my stuff? It's not like he should care." Lance just kept quiet. Good. Good for him. But...I didn't like seeing him so quiet. It was like telling a wolf not to howl because it's annoying. Like telling a baby not to cry at birth. I don't know what it was about him, but every time I see him he just makes my blood boil. He just pisses me off.

"Oh. Well, sorry I asked," Hunk replied awkwardly. "I was just hoping maybe he would know."

Shiro put a hand on my shoulder, as though he wanted to talk to me about something. I let him pull me aside to somewhere no one could hear us. "What is it, Shiro?"

"Keith, what the hell is going on?" He looked concerned. "You seem bothered."

"I'm fine, Shiro."

"I don't believe you. Spill it young man, or will I have to get my belt," He threatened.

"I SAID I'M FINE," I finally snapped at him. Everyone heard me, but at the time it didn't matter. "There's no reason to worry about me, I'm just boring useless angry old Keith." I hit Shiro's shoulder trying to seem playful, but he didn't see it as playful, "So leave me be. I don't need my phone anyway." I just walked back to my room quietly and quickly so as to get out of that situation. Damn, why does everyone have to be so pushy? I'm okay. I've always been okay. Why has everyone been in my business since I woke up?


	2. 6 Months Later

I wake up in a bed staring at a paneled wall colored white with splotches of fresh blood. Attached to my right wrist was a paper bracelet, and by that very same wrist stood an IV. To my left there was a bedside table which had a lamp with a broken lightbulb. I look down at both of my arms. They're covered in self-inflicted cuts. Fresh, and threatening to touch a vein or two. Above and across and all around the room were paintings. All of them showing depictions of murder, cannibalism, and general bloodbaths. Crimes committed by tainted humans with no sense of guilt or remorse. There are no clocks in the room. I found that strange. A hospital with no clocks? Unheard of to me, Mr. Useless who deserved to die. They should've let me die. They should've left me in that tree hanging. They should've left me there for Allura to find my corpse in the tree, lifeless and limp. For Shiro to see me broken and torn, the scars that spread from my arms to every inch of my body being proof of that. Nothing but hated, useless, always angry little Keith hanging dead in a tree at 2:27 PM. But instead, the team had a different idea. I was sent straight back to Earth to lie here in a hospital, being treated like an unstable monster. Maybe I am just another unstable monster. I could be compared to schizophrenics and serial killers. Only...I would be a personal serial killer. This was my 7th attempt. 13% new experience.

In came a male nurse, pure and godlike. His body promised an escape. His smile promised happiness. Those pills in his hand, however, made me sick. A reminder of my first attempt. A reminder of the failure of what was meant to be. Useless, angry Keith lying dead in his bed next to bottles of pills, was a fantasy I sought out for the betterment of myself and the crew surrounding me. That nurse stood with a taunting smile. "You know who I am and why I'm here. You know what I'm going to do and what happens after. But what you don't know, and will never know, is why the end comes this way." His words did nothing. The paintings started to move. Cannibals in the act of eating a corpse whole, serial killers stabbing men and women alike repeatedly, and me with knife in hand waiting to repeat the actions in the paintings.

The me in bed had no knife, however. It was superior, murderer Keith wielding the knife. He slit Lance's throat and cut open his body, making precise cuts to safely cut out the nurse's vital organs. Superior me threw them about the room, but mostly at bed-ridden me. He then ripped out the veins of the nurse and created a braid, forming a whip.

Finally, it was my turn to accept my fate. My throat was slit, and my eyes opened once again to a pitch black room. I wasn't lying on a bed, I was more so lying on a couch. Deep breaths once again, Keith. Deep breaths.

* * *

I searched for my phone. Gone. I lost it again. So far since the first nightmare I've been misplacing things from my phone to that dagger. I also may have lost track of my happiness while in the process. After all, I've had 73 more nightmares since that first one. All of them, Lance died. The one person I feel I could open up to in the future dies repeatedly and I'm forced to watch. Those "We make a really good team," remarks supposedly gone forever in my mind during a state of unconsciousness. Gone forever, repeatedly.

I stood up and found my way to the light. I was in the lounge. Someone had left a note for me next to where I was sleeping. I picked it up and opened it.

"Hey buddy. Are you sure you're okay? You've been sleep walking a lot lately and occasionally sleeping in during the day. It's starting to make us all worried for you. -Lance. P.S. Hunk made everyone something close to ice cream, yours is in the kitchen."

Buddies with Lance, huh? Sleep walking? Everyone's worried, and Hunk made ice cream. They didn't wake me up to tell me. Instead they had Lance write a letter. But why did they have Lance write the letter? Why not the princess, or Shiro? I folded the note back up and put it in my pocket, hoping not to lose it like I had lost everything else. A note from Lance was certainly something that made history in my eyes. That aside, I made my way to the dining room to see if anyone was still eating just in case it hadn't been long since the ice cream was made. I was right. The ice cream was made a while back ago but everyone was still eating and having a chat.

Allura smiles kindly, obviously noticing I entered the room. "Look everyone, Keith is awake!" Suddenly all eyes were on me. All eyes aside from Lance, because he wasn't in the room.

"Where's Lance? I need to talk to him." I don't know what made me feel like talking to Lance of all people would help. After all, he had died repeatedly and tried to kiss me every time. Every nightmare he tricked me into feeling loved and cared for, and then a different version of me ruins that.

"We havent seen him since he left to give you that note," Pidge replied. As soon as she finished I ran. I ran out the room and started searching.

He wasn't in the kitchen, he wasn't in the training room, he wasn't at the bridge, and he wasn't with his lion. The last place I had was his room, but I didn't want to walk in and he's doing something embarrassing like singing along to Beyoncé or crying...or something embarrassing for the both of us. Regardless of the protests I made to myself, I found myself standing on front of Lance's door and knocking. A sniffle came through the door as Lance opened it.

"Keith?" He seemed surprised. "Is everything alright?"

"No...nothing's alright," I confessed. "Everything is going to hell with me. I feel empty, and I've been having these nightmares. Just thinking about the events in these dreams make me feel like I'm worthless. Being happy is almost impossible now. I can't smile, I can't laugh, I can't take a break. There's nothing in life for me now. So no, Lance, nothing is okay. I feel like shit and I need help and I don't want to go to anyone else but you." At this point I had let out my whole heart and soul. There was nothing left to say after that.

Lance seemed dumbfounded and concerned, but he didnt make fun of me like I thought he would. I thought if I told Lance what was going on he'd make fun of me for being weak, but I thought wrong. Very wrong. He opened his arms and welcomed me for a hug, which I almost didn't take. I held onto Lance for dear life, believing that if I let go I would die again just like all those times in the dream. If we died here, at least this time I wouldn't die alone.

His entire body was so warm, and it melted my heart. His presence completely eliminated that feeling of emptiness that I've been having for the past few months. In these few moments I felt like everything would be okay. So long as I stayed in Lance's arms, I would be okay. That made me hold on tighter. At this point he noticed. The Keith he knew was gone. The Keith he knew was confident and always knew where his stuff was. The Keith he knew was a great leader and always showed light on the best path possible. That's not me anymore.

It was quiet. At least until Lance finally said something. "We all knew something was up, but...we didn't think it was this bad."

"This has been going on for 6 months, Lance. I've been having these nightmares where a different version of me kills me. There's blood everywhere and paintings that depicts cannibalism and serial murder." It seemed like he may have an understanding now.

"You're shaking," he said quietly. I hadn't noticed. I was so focused on the warmth he gave me while I was opening up to him that I didn't care about what I was doing. I was shaking though. I was shaking badly. My knees grew weaker and weaker by the second. _I can fight through this. I can stand._ No. No I can't stand. I gave in and let my body hit the floor and just sat there. Lance was quick to react and follow me to the floor. I was still shaking. I was weak, venerable, and shaking. My guard is low, and Lance could hurt me if he wanted to. He easily could leave me here alone shaking and unable to move. He could leave me in my pool of overreacting nerves, but he won't.

"Is everything okay?" Lance asked me for what felt like the thousandth time. I never get tired of hearing it.

I felt like lying to him. I wanted so badly to say yes, but the truth was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "Nothing is okay." Theres was no point in lying if the answer was right in front of him.

Lance, at this point, had done something I definately didn't expect. He picked me up and placed me in his bed. "I would ask you to sleep but..."

"Theres no way in hell I'm sleeping. I'm never gonna sleep again. Screw that. If I slept that would just bring all the pain back. You die every single night right in front of my eyes in the most horrible ways, Lance. I see so much blood every single time I close my eyes. I'm tired of seeing blood. The color red makes me sick now. The thought of medicine makes me want to puke. Knives and guns make me scared. Hospitals, the colors baby blue and white, lamps. It all makes me feel so unsettled. Even you just being here. The things you've said in my subconscious haunt me. It's almost akin to hearing you say it all right to my face just by you being here. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired, I'm scared, and I'm done with being here in space. I want to go home. I want to be in a paradise where none of this shit ever happens. Somewhere guns and knives and those colors dont exist. Somewhere far away from everything that brings me all this pain. But..." I decided to stop. _Did_ _I_ _really tell him all of that?_ Lance looked at me. He had questions.

"I'm in your nightmares? Is that why you mumble my name so often?" he asked. I shrugged. I didn't know I said his name often. "What kills me?" I didn't answer that. It brought back the memories of that other Keith. It brought back the sight of Lance's veins being ripped from his body and braided into a whip. I don't want to see it anymore.

"I'm so sick of it," was all I could manage to get out before I let out a long sigh. The phrase calm before the storm couldn't be any more wrong. There is never a calm before a storm. There's always a build up. However, there is a calm after the storm. That's what I was experiencing. The calm after the storm. I let out all my emotions, and now I was tired. I whispered softly, "Would it be alright with you that I sleep here if I can manage?"

He nodded as I closed my eyes. Slowly but surely I fell asleep. No nightmares came. Nothing came. There was no blood, or gruesome imagery. This happened occasionally when I took naps. At times I never made it into REM sleep anyway. I woke up 20 minutes into sleep to the sound of nothing. Simply waking up like I used to without death waking me was a very nice feeling. I look around and find my phone sitting next to me with a sticky note attached that says, "Found it in the training room. -Lance."

* * *

[6:24 PM]  
Steaming hot water hit my body and eased tension from every limb possible. It felt like Lance had hugged me all over again. "Why did Lance let me hold onto him for so long though? Why did he let me open up to him, and why did he let me sleep in his room? Why was Lance suddenly being so nice to me? Before now he was always making jokes about me and my mullet. He was always rambling about our rivalry and competitions, but now he was worried about me. The look in his eyes were soft and almost worried. Scratch almost, he was definately worried.

"Why do people get worried about me? Why do people get worried in general." I slammed my fist against the tiled wall. _I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND!_ I want to know why it's all so complicated. I want to know why Lance's personality changed so quickly. I'm angry. I can't understand him!

I knew anyone who walked by the room could hear me, but I didn't really care. All that mattered was why. Why everything? Why anything? I felt something slip out of my hands.

 _BANG!_

The noise made me fall. Why is everything louder in the bathrooms even in space? I stood up and picked up the bottle I dropped, cursing at myself on the way up. One thing I never thought of though, where does the water come from? I'll have to remember to ask Allura about the plumbing later.

I finished up in the shower and brushed my hair, put my hair in a ponytail, then got dressed. Before I left I checked for my phone. Thankfully, I hadn't lost it again. Then I looked for my ponytail holder and panicked until I looked in the mirror and realized I already had it in. Letting out a heavy sigh, I left the shower and headed straight for my room to lay down for a while. One though went through my mind as soon as I layed down. _Why did I even bother opening up to Lance if I'm just going to wind up avoiding him?_ After that though I felt a huge wave of regret. He probably thinks I'm weak now. He probably thinks I'll cave in and cry on his shoulder. He might tell the rest of the gang and just laugh about it like another joke. The rest of them would too. Maybe it is a good joke. Maybe I'm overreacting about these stupid nightmares. I closed my eyes but opened them right after. _I refuse to sleep._ I'm not letting myself fall asleep.

After all that's happened to me it would be better if I didn't sleep.

So I didn't, and it's been two days since that day I decided I wouldn't sleep. I seldom left my room and if I did it would be to eat or use the bathroom or something.

A knock threw itself all over my door. "Who is it?" I called out.

"Orange," a voice replied. It was Lance.

I decided to play his little game. Walking to the door, I said, "Orange who?"

The door opened, and he was holding a basket of fruits. "Orange you glad it's not banana?" A soft laugh escaped my lips as well as his. He playfully shoved the basket towards me, basically forcing it into my arms. I took them and looked at his face for some sort of emotion. He wore a very please expression on his face. I wonder why.

"I guess," I replied. "But Earth fruit would really be great."

He looked a little sad after I said that. "I know, but this was all I could find. I miss Earth fruit, but these are really good. These taste kinda like strawberries even though they're shaped like star fruit kinda," he says pointing at one of the fruit in the basket. "Anyway, the whole team got together to make a fruit basket for you I guess to apologise? We feel like it's our fault you started isolating yourself, so we made it together. I...well I kind of volunteered to bring them to you, since...well you know." I couldn't say anything. I wanted so badly to just latch onto him again but I couldn't. "Hey, why do you have these dark circles under your eyes? Have you been sleeping?" I shook my head. He seemed upset now. "I'll be right back if you fall asleep while I'm gone I'm just gonna sit in your room until you wake up," he said before walking off. I sat back down on my bed and waited. I refuse to let myself sleep. _I refuse to let myself sleep._ I refuse to let myself sleep. I refuse to let myself sleep.

I passed out.

[3:15 PM]

I woke up to Lance sitting patiently on the floor of my bedroom with a bag in his hand. It was filled with stuff that I couldn't see. "Do you want the strawberry or the blueberry face mask?" Wait, what? I let my face look just as confused as I was. "Dude, we're having a spa day. You need some time to chill so I got stuff for the both of us so maybe we can hang out a little."

I didn't know what to think or say or do. A spa day? Time to chill? Hang out? All of that with Lance, who didn't show the least amount of care for me before the day I opened up to him. "Sure," I said hesitantly. I knew one day I would have to spend a little time with Lance but I didn't think it would be like this. Regardless I couldn't turn back now, he was already getting me ready for whatever kind of spa day he was preparing.

"Okay so now that that's all set up you never did answer my main question," he said finally finished preparing.

"There was a question?" If there was one I probably don't remember it.

"Strawberry or blueberry?" He was being patient with me. I was kind of expecting a small insult, but I didn't get one. What happened to the Lance I used to know? Why is this new Lance so nice to me?

"Strawberry I guess."

He put the strawberry mask on my face for me making sure whatever needed to be covered was, and whatever didn't need to be wasn't. Then he placed the basket of fruits in between us and started putting on the blueberry mask. I don't know what it was about the way he was acting right now but something was telling me that he was definately worried about me. I smiled at him, and he would smile back. He would make a joke and we would both laugh, and if I ever made a joke he would laugh too. He made me soak my feet in some sort of hot slime and he did the same. Maybe 3 hours had passed and I started to feel myself want to get closer to him.

[6:57 PM]

We had just gotten over a laughing fit. I started staring off into space. My feet felt really soft and my face was clean and clear, I was free from any pain in just 3 hours. Finally free. But it didn't last very long. I wanted it to last forever. Those 3 hours passed like 3 seconds when I wanted them to pass like 3 years or millenia even. Here I was staring, though. Thinking of all the ways I could try to spend more time with Lance but somehow seeing every way how it could go wrong. Training with Lance but then the rest of the gang drop in to train with us instead of letting us be alone. Eating together but then being called to form Voltron to save an innocent alien species. Just hanging out in the lounge could turn into bickering, and if there's anything I don't want right now it's a fight. Not after all the fights I've thrown at myself subconsciously.

He waved his hand in front of my face. "What are you thinking about?" he asked kindly with an innocent smile on his face.

I smiled back and replied, "Oh, nothing really. Just how we're bonding and you're suddenly putting your 'rivalry' with me aside." He let out a soft laugh.

"Well ever since you started sleep walking and mumbling Allura started getting worried about you. So did the rest of the team." I couldn't say anything. Why was he being so truthful? I layed down in my bed and stretched out. He stood up and got ready to leave. "You should get some sleep, I know you've been missing out on it."

"I can't."

"What? Why can't you sleep?"

"I just know that next time I fall asleep I'm going to have one of those nightmares again and it won't be pretty when I wake up," I said in a miserable tone.

"Well," he said. Nothing followed for a few seconds. "I'm sorry I don't know what to say, man. Just be careful, okay?"

I nodded and he left. Eventually I would get to the reason why Lance was being so considerate, but as of right now all I can think about was where the hell I put the basket those fruits came in. Lance had shared the basket with me while we were having that bonding moment, but I lost track of where it went when the fruits were gone. I checked everywhere in my room only to realize it was in my hand the whole time. Laughing at myself, I placed the basket in a corner somewhere so I knew where it was in case I would need it for anything. I probably wouldn't, but at this point anything Lance gives me in a blessing on its own.

I layed down in my bed and let out a big sigh. It felt so nice eating something close enough to healthy for the first time in a long time. It felt nice to be next to someone who was very much alive when you thought they were dead. It worried me every time I had those nightmares. Was he alive? Was I alive? I have a pulse, but where is Lance so I can check? Every time I wake up from that subconscious hell, I search for lance. Sometimes in secret, sometimes openly, I would search for him hoping he was still alive. He always was. I don't know why I always worried he wasn't. My eyes started to close. No! _Don't fall asleep!_ I fell asleep regardless.

My body forced itself into sleeping. It forced me into the part of myself I most fear, and gave me something that surprised me. It gave me my first nightmare. Not as brutal as the reoccuring ones. This nightmare was one of the first ones I remember having. This nightmare, compared to the nightmares I have now, was child level.

I woke up the next morning somewhere I didn't expect to be.


	3. Seeing Red

_{Hey guys, it's the author here~! I was hoping to be able to ask you to give me feedback on this story by commenting here. I want to know if I'm developing these characters well or if some of the things I add here are very well connected to the real characters. I sometimes have trouble keeping in touch with the actual characters and get carried away with the fantasy a little bit, so please tell me what you think!_ _I would also like to ask those of you who are enjoying the story to vote for my chapters. It really means a lot to me. Thanks to all of you who have been reading, and enjoy this chapter. Author: out}_

* * *

[6:42 AM]

I woke up and found myself in a completely different room. One I recognised but wasn't familiar with. The walls were just like the walls in every other bedroom with blue accent lights that trace the corners of the room and where the floor and bed meet. I was sitting up in the bed, neatly tucked in and alone. I looked on the floor to find a friend sleeping with extra pillows to support his body. He slept on top of a blanket and underneath another. His facial expression was so serene and pure it reminded me of a child taking their midday nap. Some part of me hoped it wasn't another nightmare, but there was something important to note. There was a clock present in this room, and it told the time. This wasn't a nightmare. I fell asleep in my room and woke up in Lance's room.

 _How did this happen?_ I thought to myself. I repeated that thought in my head while waiting for Lance to open his eyelids to reveal those blue eyes. Blue. That was a color I didn't learn to hate over time because of my nightmares. All I saw was blood and gore and body parts, all of which were colored red. I grew to hate that color. I regret that stupid red jacket I would always wear, the fact that the lion I pilot is red irritated me, and just the color red in general. This hate I held for the color red made me love the color blue. So many shades of blue for so many different occasions, and the idea of blue flowers makes me think of peace. Blue was the color of peace, the color of cold, the color of majesty, and so much more. It just so happened that Lance's eyes were that specific blue with many different meanings. His eyes were the shade of blue that showed peace and the ocean and happiness all around, but at the same time they were the shade of blue that showed sadness and despair.

It wasn't just his eyes that told me blue was his color. It was his demeanor. Big ego like royal blue, but at the same time friendly and understanding like maya blue. Brave and adventurous like ultramarine blue, but he also has that touch of emotional impulsivity just like neon blue. There was so much of him in the color blue, but just in different shades. It was exactly like him. So many of his emotions are there, but they're not shown unless the light hits them in a certain way that forces them to show. I want to be that light. I want to be the light that makes all of his emotions show. I want to see every shade of blue Lance has to offer. I don't want to see any more red, that color is the most repulsive. Blue is the color I want to spend my whole life with.

He yawned and began to sit up opening his eyes and looking at me confused at first but then seeming to remember something. He stretched. "Good morning," he said mid-stretch.

"Good morning I guess. How did I get here?"

"You just walked in and laid down in my bed. I guess you were sleepwalking again."

"Oh..."

It was quiet for a while. The two of us were just sitting around. Lance was looking at his phone and paying whatever games Pidge put on his phone for a moment while I, without a phone to play on, just watched him play. Then a thought hit me that I had to get off my mind.

"You just let me lay down in your bed? You didn't bother to maybe wake me up and ask me to go back to my room?" I asked him.

"Well you've been through a lot and I just want everyone to be okay," he said calmly still playing the game on his phone. "Besides, it's bad to wake up a sleepwalker." He let out a soft laugh and placed his phone down.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." After I said that it was quiet once again. I hated the silence he was pushing me through. Normally he'd talk my brains out every day but now he was being quiet. I had wondered at this point how much had he truly heard from me to let the room fill with silence just so I could be comfortable.

"Hey," I said to break the silence. He turned to look at me. "Do I sleep talk?"

He laughed at that question. "I don't want to embarrass you but yeah. You're a very talkative sleeper. You also you move around a lot like you're trying to escape something. It's kind of depressing to watch you sleep, honestly. We all hear you say you're fine, but we also hear you screaming for help when you're asleep." I couldn't say anything. He sounded serious though. Some part of me wanted to believe he was lying but the rest of the team talks about it too. The sleepwalking and talking, the actively moving, the unsettling aura. They're lying! There's no way I act like that in my sleep. It can't be possible. "We just want our team in one piece." Oh.

"So they're only worried for me because they only want the team," I mumbled to myself. I don't know why I said it aloud. I saw that color again. I saw red. I saw the one color and nothing else. I saw anger when I wanted to be calm. I saw myself in a position I never hoped to see myself in. I was mentally preparing myself for the worst possible outcome.

"Keith, you've got it all wrong," he said, trying to reason with me. All it did was make it worse. The red I saw before he said this was faint, but now I was blinded by red. No other color made its way into my eyes.

"No I've got it the way I've always been speculating. No one cares about boring, useless, always angry, red Keith. Everyone only cares about the team. You're only nice to me because of the team." I stood up and got ready to leave, but Lance took my arm. The red was making itself worse and worse with every action Lance took. _I hate this._ I thought to myself. _Lance stop pushing me._

"If you go out thinking like that you'd be lying to yourself. I want you to talk to me. What do you mean useless and boring? You're about as useful as it gets compared to me. And always angry? I've caught you smiling a few times, don't think I didn't see you laugh yesterday. What about red? What's so bad about being red?"

Everything was red. My skin and his, our clothes, the walls. Everything. "Don't you ever speak that three letter word in my face ever again, you hear me? That color is a fucking curse! That color has shown me despair and agony, and any one else who knows red well enough would tell you the same!" I couldn't hold myself back from yelling. I didn't just see red now, I felt it. I felt fire infecting my body and forcing me to a ledge I didn't want to be near. I felt my hand raise itself ready to slap and hurt. My hand has begun to do the one thing I feared. I was at the height of my swing until I saw Lance's eyes. The only thing blue that stood out from all the red I was seeing. The only flicker of blue in the dense red fog that clouded my vision. I let my hand fall along with my whole body and stared into Lance's eyes ready to cry but holding back. His eyes would be the death of me one day with the stare he was giving me.

He stared into my eyes harshly. "Are you going to let colors affect your mood like this? Seriously it's childish."

My voice was broken glass. "You don't know what I've seen." Red began to fade away, and my vision was slowly coming back to me with all the colors I was supposed to be seeing.

"You're right, I don't know what you've seen, but regardless you shouldn't lash out on anyone you care about because of it. Assuming you care about me." The last five words he spoke hurt. _But I do care about you Lance._ I wanted to tell him so badly how much I care and appreciate him, but I couldn't. He wouldn't feel the same way, not after I did something like that to him.

"Lance, I-"

"Lance, nothing. I don't want excuses I want you to either be truthful or quiet. I want you to be calm."

"I am calm!'

"Yelling isn't calm." He was right. I wasn't calm. I was shaking, overheated, and emotionally drained. "Tell me what's wrong with the color red. What's so bad about a stupid color?" There was nothing I could thoughts refused to let me talk. "That's what I thought," he said with a sassy tone, but it wasn't playful.

"N-no you don't understand," I said softly. "There are some things you're better off not knowing."

"How do you expect me to help with a hole in the story?"

"So then you're willing to help me?"

"Keith I don't like seeing you so miserable. I don't want to see anyone miserable. I just want everyone to be happy. I want to finish this war so I can go back h-home," he started to tear up and his voice bean shaking. "I miss earth, I miss the sand and water and I miss my family and I miss the blue skies." He let one tear fall, but no more than that.

I whispered to myself, "Blue," with no second thought.

He looked at me strangely, like I had said something so unlike me. "Blue?"

I nodded. "Blue."

"Why blue?"

I shrugged. "Just blue."

He looked thoughtful for a second. Something about _blue_ that reminded him of an idea. Maybe it was that blue was just his entire personality, maybe not. Regardless, blue was something we both miss about Earth. The room was silent, but I decided to break the silence. "Blue is a color that works for every occasion, and it fits for any emotion and personality trait you could possibly think of. But that's just seeing blue. Have you ever _felt_ blue?" He looked at me weird.

"You mean like sad?"

"No I mean feeling blue as a whole. Feeling like the embodiment of a color. I think if you try to feel like blue then maybe you become one with the color." Suddenly a thought crossed my mind. How could this tie into red? "Feeling blue isn't always sad. Feeling blue is alive. Feeling red is feeling destructive and upset. Seeing blue is seeing peace, seeing red is seeing anger."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't know anymore," I say through a yawn, "But I'm calm, aren't I?"

He lets out a soft laugh. "Yeah. Look I'm sorry I upset you."

"It's not your fault."

It was quiet for a moment. "Okay," his soft voice spoke before I yawned again. "Hey, if you want to take a nap in here you totally can." He yawned this time.

"No it's fine, I'll go to my room," I said getting closer to the door. I looked back at him to make sure he was okay. He gave me a thumbs up, and I reluctantly left the room filled with blue behind and walked to my room to take a cat nap. I passed Pidge who seemed confused as to why I was awake so early. Hunk also seemed confused when I passed him. Allura, though, was excited. She smiled brightly and hugged me.

"I'm so glad you're awake, Keith! I need your help with something," said Allura with the most upbeat voice I'd heard from her in a while. I almost forgot there was a side of her that was this energetic and playful. "Here, come see!" She took my hand and dragged me to the lounge and sat me down.

I said to her, "What did you need help with?"

"I want to understand something about humans a little bit more," she said.

"And you're asking me? Come on, you remember what happened last time I t-"

"Let's put that beside us, Keith. I need you to talk to me. I want to know I'd you can explain why you walk and talk in your sleep? How do you do it?"

"Well it's not something we can control actually. You should talk to Pidge about that since she knows more in that field," I said in as kind a voice I could without breaking again.

"Well...at least tell me how you feel about sleepwalking. Please," her eyes pleaded in a friendly way.

I sighed. "I don't like the fact that this happens, not at all," I said laying back with my arms spread out and hooking onto the back if the couch.

She seemed to be taking mental notes. "So, have you been dreaming lately?"

"I hate to say this Allura but you're not gonna to get to the bottom of whatever you're researching by asking me," I said trying to not be harsh but my attempts failed. "Talk to Pidge about this, I'm going take a nap." I got up and made way to my room.

"Wait, Keith!" She walked after me hastily and got in front of me. She said, "I just want to get to know you better."

I replied to her harshly. "How can you get to know me when I don't even know me?" I couldn't tell her anything about what was going on. I can't even trust myself with everything going on with me so how am I supposed to trust others?

She stopped following me. "Right. Sorry I bothered you then," she said sounding bothered. I just continued on my way to my room.

Finally I made it to my room. It was such an eventful morning I couldn't hold back from falling back asleep all over again in my room. I checked my phone for the time.

[7:32 AM]

"I can't believe that was all in one hour," I said to myself while laying down in my bed. I looked around the room for whatever trace of blue I could find, but there was nothing close to what I wanted. I got up to remove something red in the room. My jacket. I opened my door and made my way to the airlock to get rid of it. No one saw me in person on my way there, so there was no one to tell me not to throw out my only jacket. That didn't matter. _This color is a curse._ I told myself that while placing it in the first door of the airlock. The first door closed and the second door opened, sending that red jacket out into space where I would never see it again. I watched it go with no regrets and then walked back to my room to sleep peacefully with no sight of red in my room finally.

I let my mind drift off for a second to think about all what happened this morning. I woke up and the first thing i did was watch Lance sleep. How did I feel? I felt happy seeing him peacefully sleep like that. What happened after that? Well he and I got into a little fight. That didn't feel good at all. Then, I left and Allura talks to me. That was uncomfortable. I got rid of the last bit of red that was in my room forever, and that felt rejuvenating. Now I'm laying in bed comfortably, feeling a little happier than usual. That helped me fall asleep.

* * *

[Three days later]

I wake up in a bed staring at a paneled wall painted red with blood. Attached to my right wrist was a paper bracelet, also covered in blood. To my right, there was a busted IV and just on the floor lay all it's liquid. I look down at both of my arms. They're covered in self-inflicted cuts that dug deep enough to where they cut a vein or two. I couldn't move the hand with the cut veins.

Above and across and all around the room were paintings. All of them showing depictions of murder, cannibalism, and general bloodbaths. Crimes committed by tainted humans feeling pleasure from the sensation of other people's demise. A thought ran through my mind while I looked at the paintings. They should've let me die. They shouldn't have followed me to that roof. They should've left me there for Allura to find my corpse in the street with blood scattered on the cement. For Shiro to see me broken and torn, the scars that spread from my arms to every inch of my body being proof of that. Nothing but hated, useless, always angry little Keith with every drop of blood in his body scattered and every bone broken. But instead, the team had a different idea. I was sent straight to a hospital, being treated like the unstable monster I am.

The same nurse walked in as always. He said to me kindly, "You don't have to go through this every time, Keith. You can smile again, just take my hand." He walked closer to me and reached his hand out to grab the last functioning hand I had. "Trust in me, Keith." He leaned in.

"Lance," I whispered softly. He stopped me from finishing with a kiss.

As the kiss went on and got more heated, I felt cold metal against my head. The cold of the metal sent shivers down my spine. It was circular and pressing hard against my temple, and some part of me had hoped it was just a toy. We pulled apart just far enough for me to see that Lance was holding the metal against my head, and also to see that the metal was a gun.

"It didn't have to be like this, if you would have just saved me the first time," he said bitterly, his eyes glowing red.

"You don't have to do this." I was shaking. "W-we can put the past behind us, Lance. We can be happy together in the now!" I held onto the hand that was holding the gun, pleading for my life. "Please, don't do this!"

His newly red eyes showed no remorse or guilt. "I'm sorry, Keith." He pulled the trigger, and I was dead.

[11:23 AM]

I woke up in Hunk's room this time. I sat up and looked around for him, but he couldn't be seen. At least that was true until he walked into the room. I studied him for a moment. He had a kind expression on his face and his body language showed no signs of hostility as usual. He was more laid back than the others were, but this never meant he didn't care.

"Look who's awake," he said seeming surprised. "I thought you'd never wake up."

"I was hoping not to," I said jokingly starting to get out of his bed. "Sorry I took your bed."

The look on his face was that of reassurance. "Hey, if there's anything I can do to help my teammates out I'll do it so long as it's not, y'know, stupid, and this isn't stupid."

That's right, teammates. He was only doing any of this because I'm part of the team. I saw red again, but I couldn't take it out on someone like Hunk. Yelling at him would be like killing a puppy in front of a child out of sheer anger, and I don't want to know what his face looks like when things like that break out. He doesn't deserve the same neglectful treatment Lance gets. I sat and waited for the red to fade away this time.

Finally once the red was gone I answered him. "I guess you're right," I said weakly.

"Alright well before you go you have to know that Shiro wants to talk to you in his room," he said right as I opened the door. I nodded and left to make my way to Shiro's room

[Later]

As soon as I opened the door to Shiro's room I saw something red. It was the jacket I threw out the airlock. He seemed concerned just like Lance was, only his eyes were more soft instead of confused like Lance. Shiro gestured for me to sit down on his bed while he stood. I did so without protest, and waited for him to start talking.

"Keith," he started, "Why did you throw your jacket out? You've been acting weird lately."

"I know I've been acting weird. I'll try to put myself back in life for the team," I said with ambition trying to hide my self-contempt.

He saw behind the ambitious mask though. He said, "Keith, I want to know why. Why have you been going to sleep so late and waking up even later. Your sleep schedule is messed up and you spend half the time awake just training and the other half in your room or looking for Lance. Tell me, Keith. What's going on?"

"Shiro," I managed to get out. For a second I thought about what I was going to say. I need to tell him without telling him. I need to tell him how I've been feeling about Lance and why I hate the color red without seeing red. I need to tell him something without saying it because it would just leave him with more questions. I decided on what I was going to say, and finally put it in words. But then I decided I wasn't going to tell him that and said something completely different to avert the conversation to a different subject. "Why do you have my jacket?"

"You're right, why do I have your jacket, Keith?" He seemed to genuinely want to know.

"Well I don't know, you tell me," I said also genuinely wanting to know.

He looked into my eyes with a stern look on his face. "I don't know, why did you throw it out the airlock?"

My eyes widened. He threw another question at me that I had to avoid. What could I do this time though? Nothing. He has me in a corner. I let out a soft sigh and prepared to lie. "It doesn't fit me anymore," I told him trying to hold back in my voice the real reason why I threw it out. I'm sorry Shiro. I threw it out because it was red. I threw that jacket out the airlock because it was starting to piss me off just looking at it. That's also why I'm not spending bonding time with my lion, Shiro. I'm sorry, I can't tell you.

He didn't want to believe it, that much I could tell, but he did anyway. "Alright then, I'll see if someone on the ship could fix it for you."

"NO!" I can't believe I blurted that out.

A smile formed on his face. "Oh? But you seemed so sad that the jacket didn't fit you anymore so I thought you'd be happy."

I was going to say something, but the door opened. Lance, who was leaning on the door, fell to the ground and let out a large groan. Shiro helped him up.

"Something tells me you know more about what's going on with Keith than I do," he said bringing Lance to the bed to sit next to me and then closing the door. It felt like two siblings getting in trouble for doing something wrong together and their dad has to scold them. "Tell me what you know, please." His eyes showed more concern than I'd ever seen from him.

Lance looked at me for help. He didn't know what to do. He knew everything but he didn't know if he could tell Shiro. That's when I realized something I was very wrong about. Lance didn't take my situation as a joke at all. He didn't tell anyone and he certainly didn't think what was going on was something to laugh at or tease. Lance is the only one who knows. He's the only one who knows about the nightmares, and he's the only one who's seen me grow weak to just a single color. Lance was also the make or break for my emotional state. If he told Shiro it would be the end of me, but if he kept it to himself it would be the end of Shiro. I let out a sigh. I was starting to see red again. Lance could tell.

"Shiro," Lance started. My heart dropped. "Keith has been having really vivid nightmares lately," he said looking at me to see how I was doing. I wasn't okay. I was nowhere near okay. Red spread across the room.

"Get that jacket out of here," I commanded.

Shiro looked confused. "Why?" he asked.

"Just do it! JUST GET RID OF THE FUCKING JACKET SHIRO." I couldn't hold back any of my anger. He tossed it out behind the door which only made my mood worse. "No! Throw it where it belongs! DO YOU KNOW WHERE IT BELONGS SHIRO?!" I was done for. Red infected every inch of my body and prepared me for once again hurting something I cared about. The color controlled me. It made me frustrated.

Lance put his hand on my shoulder and Shiro left to toss the jacket back out into space where it belonged. I looked at Lance again and right into his eyes. Blue. Then all the red was gone in an instant. I took in deep breaths and tried my hardest to cool off while he just stared at me. I felt comfort in his stares. I felt comfort in him being with me. Any moment in time that he wasn't with me, I knew I was at the verge of breaking.

Lance finally broke the silence that spread throughout Shiro's room. "Will you be okay?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I don't trust myself being alone," I confessed with caution. He already knew a lot, he deserved to know that much at the least.

He smiled at me kindly and patted my back. "You'll be fine," he reassured my helpless little self. I looked at him, and he looked at me, and we just stared at one another quietly. Both of us were thinking very different things, I was sure of that. I let out a soft sigh and made my way out of the room, but midway through the room Shiro walked in and put his hand on my shoulder. He stared at me for a few seconds waiting for something. An apology?

"I'm-"

"It's okay, Keith. Lance and I will talk alone for a while if that's okay," Shiro interrupted softly and moved out of the way of the door for me.

I walked out and went to the kitchen to see if there was literally anything for me to eat at all. Anything. Rat poison, ice cream, food goo, soy sauce, literally plastic, anything, anything! I'll eat whatever I can get.

* * *

[A week later]

The red glint in the Lance's eyes sent fire throughout my entire body. With my only functioning hand, I managed to take the gun from him and point it back at him, forcing him to raise his arms. I was holding a gun, and pointing it at Lance. He seemed to be anxious.

"You look awfully blue, Keith," he said nervously. "Would you like a blanket to warm you?"

I grinned devilishly and said with menace, "Red is not your color." _Bang!_ I fired. The bullet landed right between his eyes. As soon as I saw the blood leak from his body I felt upset. I felt overwhelming anger and despair. I killed someone who I cared about. I'm a murderer. Everything is my fault isn't it? That's why I'm in this hospital. No, I'm not in a hospital anymore. I'm in a padded cell.

At least I was until my eyes opened to find darkness and pseudo-claustrophobia with blade in hand. I felt a mixture of cold and heat in both of my arms. It felt like cold wind blowing on hot skin, only wind wasn't blowing. I touched my arms and felt some sort of warm liquid touch all over my hands . That's right, I nearly forgot. I hid in the closet so that I wouldn't see the red leaking from my arms. I sat in that closet bleeding for a while listening to everyone looking for me because they haven't seen me in three days. I stopped leaving my room to socialize since it was no use. I couldn't leave my room without always being at the verge of yelling, and I decided that I didn't want to see anyone else the way I saw Shiro and Lance when I had that melt down last week. They continued to search for me throughout the castle and never thought to look in my closet. That was a relief.

I sat with my thoughts in the closet thinking about all the blue I could see in the future and how much blue there would be in the afterlife. It must be sweet. Free from all the red and free from nightmares, free from giant robotic lions and the galra. I can be with my dad out there in the afterlife and watch the paladins from above succeed without me. I can watch them all move on and smile and laugh without me. The team could be free from me. I drag them down anyway. My thoughts always get the better of me.

I used my blood to draw a smile from cheek to cheek on my face since now it was impossible for me to smile on my own without it being fake. The fresh blood that ran to either cheek began to drip back downward to the corners of my mouth. From there some traced the crack between my lips while the rest fell down to my chin and met in the center. Drops of blood descended down into the black abyss of the closet as I stood, preparing myself to leave and show the team the last thing I will ever draw.

I was ready to leave the closet until I heard a familiar voice call out for me. "Keith," he called out getting closer to the closet. "I'm sorry I have to go in your closet, buddy." I quickly turned around. I knew the voice. It was Lance. I didn't want him of all people to see me like this. Why did I even draw on my face in the first place? He opened the door and immediately saw blood on the floor of the closet. "Oh my quiznak...Keith?" His voice sounded perturbed.

"It's me, Lance," I whispered. "I'm right here." My voice was broken, cracked, and fearful.

"Are you okay?"

"When was I ever okay?"

"Keith," he said, getting closer to me and eventually putting a hand on my shoulder. "We've been looking all over for you. Were you seriously hiding in here the whole time?" I nodded. That's when he noticed I was hiding my face. "Hey, buddy. You can turn around."

"No I can't," I said crossing my bloody arms and holding them close to my chest to hide the marks I made with my blade. "Why don't you turn around, and I run to go wash up all this blood? Then I'll let you look at me."

Lance let out a soft sigh and turned around, allowing me to turn after him. He turned to face me, completely betraying me. His eyes searched every bit of my face and followed traces of blood to my arms and then to my hands. He appeared shocked and sad, truly sad. I didn't want to see that look on his face. Sadness was the last thing I wanted to see plastered on the one trusted man in my life's face. His beautiful blue eyes were broken, his soft skin now drenched in tears at the sight of my arms covered in my own blood.

"Lance," I said weakly, "You should've stayed facing away from me." He nodded and breathed in slowly trying not to make it obvious he was crying. I walked to him with my arms wide open asking for a hug. "Let me try to explain." He didn't take the offering, in fact he refused. He left the room still crying and ran off to his own, and I soon followed after him.

Before I went straight to his room I quickly found the bathroom and washed my face and arms clean of any blood with hydrogen peroxide and searched frantically for the first aid kit to hide my cuts with bandages. After all was dealt with I ran to Lance's room and walked in without bothering to knock. He was sitting on his bed letting his tears fall.

"Why?! I NEED YOU TO EXPLAIN! NOW!" he yelled, ripping out my heart and shoving it down my throat.

I walked to him slowly, recognising that he was hostile at the moment but hoping that it would fade away soon. "I was broken, Lance. I needed an escape. You're the only reason I never let that blade hit my skin, but before I hid in the closet you were too busy to talk. I hid myself away and never left. I slept until one day I realized you would never find me anyway, so I cut. I was so broken." I repeated _I was so broken_ in my head until it drove me insane.

At least that was the plan until Lance spoke. He said to me, still splintered, "Keith, you know you can always talk to me. It doesn't matter if I'm busy. I know I'm the only person you opened up to about your feelings, Keith. I'm here for you." His tears stopped flowing, and mine had just began. I rammed my head into his chest and just cried. He let me. He was the only person who would listen to me. He was the only person blue enough to accept me and the rollercoaster that was my emotions. The only one. "It'll be okay, buddy."

I looked into his blue eyes again before I decided to close my own and let myself drift back into sleep. He made me feel secure for some reason. He killed me nightmare before last, but that's not him. That's not my Lance. I killed him more recently, but that's not me. That's not his Keith. It's not the Keith I know either. The Keith I know would kill _for_ someone he loved, not kill the actual person he...loved. Does the Keith I know love Lance? Well, I'm gay enough, so probably. Do I love Lance? I opened my eyes again to look again at his eyes for the same shade of blue that saved me from ultimate disaster. He's made me feel wanted and accepted these past 6 and a half months. His presence sent relief throughout. His multiple deaths tore holes from my heart. Seeing him dead was definately something I didn't want. So was it love? I closed my eyes again before he could catch me staring. _Was it love or was it just a strong friendship?_ I mean, it's not impossible for me to love Lance. I swing that way. Matter of fact it's the only way I swing. It didn't matter about my sexuality though. Lance was straight, at least in my eyes. I've never seen him flirt with boys. I've never seen him _not_ flirting with girls, so I guess that settles it, right? He's straight. Straight as a line. I'm about as straight as a circle. I decided then that I wouldn't confess. He won't be able to return the feelings anyway, so it was a lost cause.

I felt my body sink slowly into the bed and allowed myself to relax. Seconds later my entire body caught the sensation of falling. My closed eyes saw imagery of me falling down a hole. I jerked and opened my eyes in a flash out of fear of actually falling just to find myself still in Lance's arms.

"Everything alright, man?" he asked.

"I felt a weird sensation. Like I was falling, almost," I replied, forcing a small laugh.

"I get that too sometimes. I think I remember a teacher saying it was because your heart rate fell so quickly into relaxation that your brain thinks you might be dying, so it sends signals everywhere just to make sure you're alive. I guess it kinda helps me too," he laughed. "At least I know you're still alive."

I smiled and continued to sit in his arms for a while until I realized something. _Isn't this what couples do?_ I got up slowly and apologised. "Sorry, Lance I didn't mean to...well...I-I didn't." I started stuttering and felt blood rush to my face.

He let his face form a kind smile that reassured me. "It's alright, Keith. Here, lay down. I'm not letting you go back to your room after everything that happened. Besides, I should be the one apologising." I looked at him confused. He said quietly, "You warned me...I didn't listen. I should've stayed by your side when you told me." He stood up and got behind me, then pushed me playfully into his bed. "Get some rest. I'll be right here if you need me."

I layed down in his bed without a word and closed my eyes once again. My heart rate slowed and lead the rest of my body to relax. Here was where I was free from my nightmares. It was this room. After sometimes going a week without sleeping and sometimes sleeping all day I felt this room was the best place for me to relax. I was with the last person I could ever love when I was in this room. I was near someone who would help me no matter what it took. I was with someone who I felt like I actually wanted to bond with and get closer to. It was strange. We had a bonding moment just now. He cradled me in his arms this time. We both saw the worst sides of each other now, and we both knew how to handle it. Soon enough we both would know our favorite foods and we would be sharing music. One day, Lance would be confident enough to show me some other talents he has. He's no one trick pony, that's for sure. He might not have one thing, but he has many things. That's what made me love him so much. _That's what makes me love him. That's what gives me this feeling._

* * *

 _A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Be prepared for a large timeskip to Season 6 where Keith and Krolia are stuck on the space whale. Don't forget that voting for my chapters helps me build my confidence for the upcoming chapters! Thank you and have a nice day/night!_


	4. Discontinued

So, this is kind of obvious but this fanfiction isn't really working out too well. I've worked on other fanfictions while I waited for a spark for this story, but I just can seem to get anything down. Not only that, but also the other fanfictions I wrote happen to be doing better than this one and I feel like those stories I have the most fun writing. This klance fanfiction started off very strong. I did research and everything I could possibly need for a particular way a character reacts to things. I did all I could on the personality to make the characters feel as close to canon as possible. I tried as hard as I could to make this story something a lot of people would enjoy, but it doesn't seem like a lot of people enjoy this. There is a significant decrease in the amount of people that read each chapter, and that really bothers me. For the other stories, that decrease isn't as dramatic.

Basically, I'm thinking of discontinuing this story, since not just the people but I as well have lost interest in the story. If you think otherwise, then please let me know. Tell me what you think. What can I do to make this appeal to a bigger audience? What am I doing wrong?

Thank you for reading  
-EightSevens


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